Tears of Starlight
by Kuroitsuki
Summary: Another Black Waltz story. The story of Black Waltz no. 1. Third in a sort of series... or is it the first?


Final Fantasy IX belongs to Squaresoft. So do the Black Waltzes, Kuja, Gaia, Terra, Garland, and all the rest.

Wow... can it be!?! Kuroi finished Chapter 1 of Tears of Starlight!! IT CAN'T BE! *cough* Well, anyways. Here's Un-kun's fic. Yay. In the style of Tool of Destruction and Touch of Flame. (Hmnmn... is this the third fic in the series, or the first!?) I like One because he's so adorable, and so he's going to be obnoxiously adorable while he's a kid. He's not really cute in this chapter, but you just wait. oo

I warn you... there are some serious spoilers for the story of the black mages ahead, maybe even some for Terra. If all of you who don't want to risk getting spoiled are gone, the rest of you can enjoy it.

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A small world beyond perfection was created, and it flung itself to the task of caring for the little spark of a soul. The shard of consciousness was engulfed in love and locked tightly in protective arms that would let no pain or danger pass through. It was determined that this soul would never feel a touch of fear, nothing but love, happiness, and security. This was the one being that would lead a perfect life.

It was too unfair that this had to end, and that he had to plunge from such perfect joy to despair.

Slowly, the gentle warmth on his cheeks faded, and the sweet ribbons of care that had been wound around him fell away. The shield that he had existed behind for all of his life had never let confusion through, and so this was new to him, along with alarm. It had suddenly become unbearably cold, and unutterably _lonely_ and _wrong_. He did not know what to do, because he had never had to do anything for himself before.

So he cried.

A new type of hand became known to him, one with a malevolent touch, a taste for destruction as strong as his guardian's desire for perfection. It was not ruthless or passionate, nor was it calculating and efficient. But it was incredibly cruel. It saw an innocent, lost, miserable child that was struggling with the concept of being alone, and immediately wanted to hurt him, to torture him, to wound his spirit to the point of numbing him. Its power traveled along his length, weak at first, but growing, seeping into his limbs and searing them with an unbearable cold. At first it only made his movements painful, but it reached his mind as well... his confusion hurt, his sorrow hurt, his regret hurt... his newfound fear was agonizing. All he could do was cry harder, but that only caused more pain to him...

At last it was too terrible to stand. The feeble hold on consciousness he was barely able to find when left to his own defenses was easily taken away, and he slipped into nothingness for a while. Oblivion was certainly not happiness, but at least it was not pain.

*~*

Oh, what a mess. What a complete and total disaster. This would cause Kuja headaches for days and days to come... this utter... _failure_.

The creature floating within the chamber of heavy liquid Mist would be noted as very remarkable by many scholars. They could flip through the pages of their monstrous bestiaries and never find an exact match for this unusual creation. It looked mostly like a human, but the extra pair of limbs made it impossible for it to fit perfectly into that category. Though it did have six limbs, it could never be an insect, because of skeletal structure, endothermy, and the feathers that covered that extra pair. Those two wings... the scholars would have to take out their spectacles and peer closely to make sure that they were seeing them correctly... feathered with the deep blue hue of the evening sky, sprouting from the creature's shoulders and spreading out behind it...

Kuja was disgusted.

He had wanted to create shells of creatures, like the one before him, to serve his purposes on the planet. Inspired by tales of wars long ago, he stole scraps of dark magic from the pulse of the world and mixed it into the breath of the dead that floated around the continent in abundance. He created forms from the concoction... humanlike in shape, though they were not quite human. They were replicas of a race that had long since vanished into the hills, even more elusive than the Summoner tribe, though of less interest to the scholars and their spectacles. Everyone believed they had died out, but now... Kuja was reviving them.

Those first creations of shadow and Mist marked small successes, but they took far too long to grow. Kuja resifted his dark brew and tried again, eliminating the problem... his next set of creatures not growing at all. But they died quickly, and the absence of growing and learning properly did hurt. He needed something that he could use almost immediately, but something he could also make sentient.

Kuja had great fun staying up late into the night, eagerly brainstorming ideas for his third attempt. If he was going to make a great new creature, why not make its magic more powerful, and use it only in dire situations? A general of sorts to command an evil army. It would live much longer, so he could pack as much negativity as possible into its brain... Why not make it versatile, as well, and give it domain over different types of magic? But still, something was missing. Kuja had nibbled the tip of his pen thoughtfully, then lay back on his bed and slipped into silent musings, while tossing the quill and catching it without quite knowing what he was doing. He tickled his nose with it, and the sneezing fits he gave himself brought him the inspiration... _Wings_.

Yes. Wings. What if the creature controlled not only the people of the land with fear of its deadly magic, but what if it could leap into the sky and soar away, laughing as the birds scattered in fright? Kuja was delighted, imagining himself the one with the wings. He wished _he_ could fly on his own. He wanted the sky for _himself_, but it was as if the ability to create something with the ability of flight would grant himself flight.

It should have been a glowing success for the silver warrior, but it was an unutterable failure. Well, perhaps it was not, but at that time Kuja could see nothing but what he had failed at.

Kuja's creation was a cripple, frame was crooked and bent, the wings he had wanted to be huge and majestic small and rather pathetic in his mind. Kuja thought it was _ugly_, and he absolutely detested ugly things... he could not stand to look at the miserable creature. The silver one blindly refused to understand the concept of a child's cuteness as opposed to beauty. We conclude that Kuja would make an absolutely terrible father.

But this time, at least, he was able to back up his prejudiced preference for appearances with his disgust at the behavior of the creation. It was weak. It could not stand pain, was easily frightened, and its wretched little half-soul had responded to the slight punishment Kuja had been forced to inflict by _crying_ like the miserable child it was. Kuja was infuriated. It had to learn to control such petty emotions if it was ever going to fulfill the duties the silver one had planned it to. He almost wished he had not given this creature consciousness...

It was still frail and helpless. Kuja had the power to drain out the Mist from the chamber and let the pathetic thing suffocate in the thin air. Would it not be better to destroy this disaster, this blemish on his perfect record...?

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Review, please! -^^- Reviews help me to finish my fics... A LOT! The energy to finish this chapter came from a review. oo Please review? Pwease?


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